Maro threw a look around and said, “We shouldn’t talk here, maybe. Is there someplace else we could go?”

It had been stressful enough getting here, I didn’t want to have to go anywhere else right now. I did a quick scan for drones, then initiated a glitch in the connection between the restaurant and transit ring security. I caught the cameras and showed ART what I wanted it to do. It took over and edited me out of the system’s recording and cut the camera watching the table out of the system. I unglitched the connection to the ring’s main security, which wouldn’t notice the missing camera feed for the short time we would be here. I said, “It’s all right. We’re not being recorded.”

They stared at me. Rami said, “But there’s security—Did you do something?”

“I’m a security consultant,” I repeated. My panic level was starting to drop, primarily because they were so obviously nervous. Humans are nervous of me because I’m a terrifying murderbot, and I’m nervous of them because they’re humans. But I knew that humans could also be wary and nervous of each other in non-combat and non-adversarial situations, in reality and not just as part of a story. That was what seemed to be happening, but it let me pretend this was business as usual during one of the rare occasions when clients asked my advice about security.

Part of my job as a SecUnit was to give clients advice when they asked for it, as I was theoretically the one with all the information on security. Not that a lot of them had asked for it, or had listened to me. Not that I’m bitter about that, or anything.

Tapan looked impressed. “So you’re spliced, right?” She patted the back of her neck, indicating where my data port was. “You got augments? You have extra access to the feed?”

“Spliced” was an informal term for an augmented human; I’d heard it on the entertainment feed. I said, “Yes.” Then added, “Among other things.”

Rami’s red brows lifted in understanding. Maro looked impressed, and said, “I don’t know if we can afford— Our credit account is— If we can get our data back, then—”

Rami took it up again. “Then we would have plenty to pay you.”

ART, who was apparently very interested in the job scenario, started to search the public feeds for a pay scale for private security consultants. I reminded myself that I was pretending not to be a SecUnit, so me questioning them wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. I decided to start with the basic information. “Why do you want to hire me?”